


Our Table, Our Coffee Shop

by thecoloursinthegravel



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Coffee Shop, Light Angst, M/M, Poetry, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:11:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11015985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoloursinthegravel/pseuds/thecoloursinthegravel
Summary: Ashton practices the art of letting go.





	Our Table, Our Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am currently very ill and hoping to go to a chronic pain inpatient programme across the country as nothing has helped to ease the pain and I seem to only be getting worse and worse. I'd love to get back to writing and I miss posting on here every day. Absolutely no pressure at all, but if you have a little to spare and have enjoyed any of my writing, I would be so, so grateful if you would consider helping me raise the funds to travel to this hospital. 
> 
> If you wouldn't mind please looking at my ko-fi account: ko-fi.com/thecoloursinthegravel
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)  
> P.S. Sorry it isn't a link and you have to copy and paste!

At our table, at our coffee shop, I’ll sit there and I won’t think about the glint in your eyes when you talk about something you love.

Or the one-sided smile you’d give me when you were up to no good.

I will simply sit. And drink my coffee. And try not to notice the amount of times I look up when the bell by the door rings.

With every stranger that walks through that door, I am not, categorically not, hoping it’s you.

I will also sit there and practice how to lie better.

As the morning melts into the afternoon I will pick something to eat. And it won’t be your favourite. It’ll be mine.

I will spend a long time trying to figure out what that is.

When I have, I will return to my seat, and look across the room. My eyes will wander over couples, groups, family members meeting for tea, and old friends catching up.

I will not have a tight yearning in my chest; longing for the sort of company that makes my heart swell in the way I remember it used to.

I won’t have to concentrate on my breathing a little harder to stop the racing of my heart and I definitely won’t have to blink through the threat of tears.

I will sit at our table, at our coffee shop, and I will not think for one minute about any part of you.

I will not shake slightly at the constant need to pick up the phone and call you.

I will not miss you.

I refuse to let myself miss you.

I will sit there, and I will count on my hands the reasons why I am happy to be there alone.

And I shall do it until I run out of fingers to count on.

Only then, will I be able to say, that I am over you.

That you do not haunt me like you used to.

That I have picked up my life and moved on.

Only then.

At our table. At our coffee shop.

Will I feel free.

 

 

     


End file.
